


Morning Exercise

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Banter, F/M, Kink Negotiation, Oral Sex, PIV Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1861899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail manages to get enough of a night off that she can spend the night sleeping with Hank at the mansion. It’s as enjoyable as she had hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Exercise

It is three minutes past four, and outside, the dawn is just beginning. She knows this because Hank has a clock on the wall (a beautiful, old fashioned thing on a dilapidated vinyl that he’d made himself, probably, and when it hits 12 noon a little wolverine pops out and bears its claws to the sky. She wonders if Logan knows about it, sometimes), and even in the dark she can see where the hands are.

**Tick.**

It is four minutes past four, and she has to get up in fifty six minutes.

Abigail does not at all want to get up in fifty six minutes.

She closes her eyes, pressing closer to Hank; she’s spooned against his back, and damn, his fur isn’t actually so hot, even given the summer warmth, but it’s so beautifully soft against her thighs and her chest. She has one arm wrapped around his waist, and the other about his chest; this latter strokes absently over the fur found below his collarbone.

Her face is buried against his shoulder, and for an almost six foot tall (“I am precisely six feet, my sweet little bloodsucker.” “You’re five and eleven, Henry.”), blue, furry beast, Hank smells _tremendously_  good. Definitely the best smelling man she’s slept with in  _years._

He’s warm in a way that isn’t stifling, warm and comfortable and soft and safe, and it’s rare that she gets time to honestly lie down and sleep with the ridiculous man.

Usually they only get to fuck and get back to business.

"Darling sadist of mine, you are thinking so loudly. Might you turn it down a notch?"

"I thought Xavier was the telepath in this mansion."

"Oh, I imagine he’s listening in as well." She snorts, holding him all the tighter and hooking her right thigh over his, pressing herself more closely against his body.

"How’d you know I was up?"

"The stroking." His hand touches hers where it sits on his chest, and she hums. She’ll have to start stroking something else, next time.

"Wake you up?"

"I wake up naturally at around this time, usually. It was a nice thing to wake up to, my dear." She doesn’t smile, but she feels warm to think of the concept, glad. She’s definitely glad. "The children didn’t keep you up, I hope?" Sleeping in a school for mutants is certainly a new one in her books, but it isn’t terrible.

"They mostly went to sleep early. Plus, my hearing isn’t sensitive like yours, Henry." Abigail murmurs, and she offers a grin of white teeth as he turns to face her, linking one of his hands with hers. How ridiculously sentimental of them, to be entwined as lovers in bed at four in the morning.

"Luckily none of them have had nightmares tonight. I get at least one a week, you know."

"All those young things in your bed! Oh, Henry, I’m jealous." He makes a face.

"Abigail, they’re all under twelve."

“ _Very_  young things then.”

"Stop it, you terrible girl." He says sternly, and mmm, that’s quite interesting. She does like it when he uses his teacher voice.

"Why, am I being naughty?" He takes a breath through his nostrils, and they flare; she feels his legs shift against hers.

"Abigail, it’s very early." Hank says, though she can tell he’s as interested as she is, his eyes looking not just at her face, now, but lower to scan her chest and down.

"Never too early though, is it?" She grins, one hand stroking from the centre of his chest, over his stomach, and then around his cock - and goodness, it’s such a charming penis! Abigail has never played with a cock as fantastic as Hank’s - it’s bright bloody blue and dusted with hair, thick and fantastic, and it’s quickly become her second favourite toy. After Hank himself, of course.

He lets out a quiet grunt of a noise. “Mmm, no, darling, I don’t suppose there’s such a thing as too early for this. No games, though? I’m surprised.” He’s teasing her, terrible man: as if he doesn’t love their games as much as she does.

"We could play a game." Abigail pushes him onto his back, sliding to straddle him. She grinds herself against him, and she cannot help but feel somewhat satisfied with the way he jolts just a little beneath her.

"Oh?"

"I could be a terribly naughty student of yours." Abigail says in a light, playful tone, hands running over his chest as she continues to roll her hips down; his eyes are closed, lips parted, head tilted back. She likes how he looks when she does this to him. "And you could spank me."

"You know, I’m not generally an advocate of corporal punishment." He murmurs, hands stroking up from her thighs to her arse, digging into the flesh with the most fantastic hint of claws. "But I think for you, young lady, it might just be the perfect cure for your  _abominable_  behaviour.” And then he sits up, bodily lifting her and throwing her over his lap, and fuck, perhaps she plays dom in their fascinating little pair too often; she so does miss him being rough with her.

"Oh, do you now, good doctor?"

"Good doctor? Me?" Hank gives a dirty chuckle that goes right through her.

And then his hand comes down with a sharp smack, and shit, for a man with fur padding to make it a little easier on the backside it doesn’t half hurt. He doesn’t give her time to recover, either: smack after smack comes down sharply, the sound of it ringing through the air, and when she lets out a quiet cry at a particularly hard one layered over marks he’s already left he pulls her up by her hair to sit in his lap, grasping tight at the abused flesh of her upper thighs. “One would think you’d have learned to be quiet. It’s very early, after all. Dirty, loud little thing.”

And yes, Abigail thinks, here’s something about a cultured voice murmuring profanities in your ear that’s spectacularly arousing.

"I’m positively filthy." She agrees. "Now fuck me." He laughs against her shoulder, lifting her slightly, lining himself up, and then she lowers herself down and God. That is good. She has no patience for his slow pace, though, and she pulls away, throwing him back before taking his cock again.

"So much for relinquishing control." He says amusedly.

"I’m in a hurry." is her simple retort, and she begins to fuck herself down, one hand flat in the middle of his chest and the other going to her own clit.

"I do love this." He murmurs, rolling his hips up against hers and trailing his nails over the reddened flesh of her arse. "So fun to watch, you know. I’m terribly fond of seeing your breasts bounce." She laughs despite herself, and he sits up, dragging his teeth over her chest.

"What happened to watching my tits?"

"I wanted to _taste_.” He murmurs, and she knows that he’s close to coming; he’s gone stiff, his lips twitching in a feline fashion that makes her want to fall apart, and when he does come she feels him pulse in the most marvelous way.

It’s not as if she’ll go unsatisfied though; she doesn’t think it’s an idea that could even pass through Hank’s own mind without internal conflict. He flips them, drawing back, and then his mouth is on her clit and she has to bite at the knuckle of her own thumb to keep from crying out.

Hank’s tongue is warm and wet and it’s sort of rough in a way she really, really loves, and she shakes under him as he goes to work. God, what a perfect man.

Her orgasm is a rapid affair, and she falls back on the bed, limp, and glances at the clock.

Four forty two. She has to get up in eighteen minutes.

"Hank." Abigail murmurs, and he wipes his mouth in the daintiest fashion a man possibly can with the back of his hand.  
  
"Hmm?"

"Be my blanket." He snorts, but he complies, coming back onto the bed with her and wrapping himself around her body.

"You’ve got to get up soon, you know."

"Shh, don’t remind me. Bloody beast."

"Bloody Brand." comes the retort, and she grins at him, catching him by the chin to give him a quick kiss. "Sixteen minutes." He reminds her cleanly, and she groans.

"Shut  _up_ , Henry.”


End file.
